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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26260690">As It Began</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nastally/pseuds/nastally'>nastally</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Queen (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>1960s, Awkward Crush, Boys In Love, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Maycury Week 2020 (Queen), Mild Hurt/Comfort, Period Typical Attitudes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:15:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,703</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26260690</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nastally/pseuds/nastally</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1969, Freddie can't find somewhere quiet to focus on his dissertation and invites himself to Brian's house. It turns out that they are better friends than he thought, and perhaps more...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Brian May/Freddie Mercury</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>82</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Maycury_Week_2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>As It Began</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/tartymoriarty/gifts">tartymoriarty</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Okay, hear me out. 😅 The document I wrote this in was literally called 'DoA but Frian'. XD If a few little bits of this seem awfully familiar to you, that's because you've read my Froger epic <i>Dawn of Aquarius</i>. </p><p>So what happened? I remembered a comment on DoA, on the chapter where Freddie goes to write his dissertation at Brian's house, and someone said "ohhh but what if Frian happens!"</p><p>Well, here's an alternative universe for you where Frian happens. lol Not actually set in the DoA universe. </p><p>Prompt was "I can't sleep". Gifting this to TartyMoriarty because her Frian is 👌🏻😍 and she's awesome. </p><p>Thank you so much to BisexualRoger for the quickest, most last-minute beta read ever! 😘</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>- - - </p><p>"I'm sorry to drop in on you like this, dear, really I am," Freddie put his satchel bag down against the wall in Brian's room, running a hand through his wind-swept hair. Part of him was already worried that this was a silly idea and he should have just stayed home, but he wasn't going to tell Brian that after calling him up so late to ask if he could come over to work on his dissertation. It was just that he'd been desperate. Normally his overcrowded, noisy flatshare didn't bother him too much. But with only days left before he'd have to hand in his dissertation, he simply needed somewhere to work where he wouldn't be interrupted, and libraries did not stay open this late. Brian had his own room in a flat he was sharing with only one more person. Amongst Freddie's close friends, he was the best bet. Or at least Freddie hoped that he was not being too presumptuous, thinking of Brian as a close friend. </p><p>He surveyed the desk, covered in papers and textbooks which extended all the way onto the bed beside it.</p><p>"Sorry about the mess," Brian had followed his gaze and hurriedly went to tidy it up. "You can have the desk, actually, if you like. I was on the bed just now anyway."</p><p>Freddie felt another pang of guilt. Judging by the plaid pyjama bottoms and the washed-out t-shirt he was wearing, Brian had very much already been on his way to bed when Freddie had decided to interrupt his peaceful evening. </p><p>"Oh, no, it's alright." He shook his head. "I'll go on the floor, you'll hardly know I'm here..."</p><p>"No, really. You're writing, I'm just reading and jotting a few things down," Brian pointed out, gesturing between the bed and the desk, "it makes sense."</p><p>Freddie hesitated for a moment, and then picked his bag back up, giving Brian a grateful smile on his way over to the desk. "Well, I suppose you're right. Thank you, dear."</p><p>"No problem." Brian relocated a stack of books and papers onto his bed. "I was just going to make a cup of tea. Would you like some?"</p><p>"Yes!" Freddie exclaimed, probably sounding far too excited. One would have thought nobody had ever offered him a cup of tea before. It was just that this afternoon when he'd returned from college, the tea had been all but finished and the last bit of milk had gone sour. Of course, Brian didn't know that. </p><p>"Yes, please. I would love some," Freddie added, a more measured response, and pulled his lips over his teeth as he leaned down to pull his notebook and several library books out of his bag. </p><p>"Milk and sugar?"</p><p>"Yes, both. Two sugars, thank you." </p><p>His curly-haired friend nodded and went to the door, then turned back around, pointing to a large, dark blue tin on the desk.</p><p>"There's biscuits, if you want. My mum made them. Help yourself."</p><p>Freddie gave a delighted gasp. He really couldn't help it, this was already so much more pleasant than trying to get any work done in his own flatshare any day "Brian! You're my new favourite, darling," he quipped with a grin. "Don't tell the others."</p><p>Brian chuckled as he left for the kitchen. Arranging his notes and books on the desk, Freddie took a deep breath, and flipped his notebook open.</p><p>- - - </p><p>The last thing Brian had expected at nine o'clock on a Tuesday night was a telephone call from Freddie, asking him if he would be up much longer. </p><p>As a matter of fact, Brian was not in a habit of going to bed early. He very frequently stayed up far too late, engrossed in a book he just couldn't put down, so it wasn't as though Freddie was inconveniencing him. It was just unexpected that Freddie should call up <i>him</i>, of all people, and not Tim or Roger. After all, Tim had known Freddie the longest and they attended the same college. While Freddie and Roger seemed to have become the best of friends almost overnight, after meeting just three months ago. Of course, Brian also considered Freddie a friend. A good friend, even. They had all spent enough time together over the last three months and Freddie had very much become part of their group, all but musically speaking. But Tim and Roger were undeniably closer to him than Brian was, or so he thought. </p><p>It wasn't that he didn't like Freddie. If anything, Brian thought, dropping the tea bags into the mugs, it was the opposite. </p><p>Because Freddie was-</p><p>Well, he wasn't quite like anyone Brian had ever met before. There was something intensely captivating about him. Brian felt like he knew him, and then again he didn't. Some days he couldn't fathom who Freddie really was or what he was thinking, and other days they'd sat together listening to Hendrix, completely on the same wavelength. </p><p>Freddie was like an intricate mosaic that made you want to look, and keep looking, to really see the full picture. And still there was always something new, catching your eye.</p><p>Brian felt as though he was always racking his brains for the right thing to say around Freddie, something particularly interesting or particularly witty, perhaps. He had the relentless urge to impress him, or make him laugh, for some reason, but instead he found himself a bit tongue-tied more often than not. </p><p>But he was pleased, Brian thought, waiting for the kettle to boil. He couldn't deny that. He was pleased that Freddie had thought of him - over Roger, and Tim, or any of his other friends - when he had needed peace and quiet. Perhaps it was only because everyone else's flatshares were more crowded, louder, less comfortable, in the end. Even so, Freddie was evidently comfortable around him. And that was nice to know. </p><p>- - - </p><p>His anxieties had been unfounded, Freddie decided some time later, absently dunking a half-eaten biscuit into his tea while he read over a paragraph for the tenth time, finally content with it. This had been a terrific idea. It was surprisingly easy to concentrate with Brian so intensely absorbed in his studies beside him. His whole aura was one of calm and immaculate focus, so unlike Roger's chaotic, excitable energy or Tim's penchant for throwing deep, philosophical questions into the round (and then answering them himself at length) the moment a silence lasted longer than a minute. </p><p>Sitting at a desk - not something he had available in his own flatshare - also didn't hurt. Quite literally. Freddie leaned back in his chair and stretched, clicking his back. Brian looked up from his book, a sympathetic look on his face.</p><p>"How are you getting on?"</p><p>"Pretty well, actually." Freddie glanced over at him with a smile. "Don't mind if I stay until Friday, do you?" he added, a little twinkle in his eye.</p><p>Brian laughed and went quiet for a bit, then looked back up at him.</p><p>"You could," he said, "I mean, you can come over again. Anytime you like." </p><p>"Thank you." Freddie's smile widened a little before he hid it behind his lips. "Careful, I might take you up on that offer." </p><p>"I really don't mind." Brian assured him and lowered his eyes to his textbook. </p><p>Freddie watched him a moment longer, slouched against the wall with the book on his lap, long legs stretched out in front of him. He was really a bit of a marvel, was Brian. Fiercely intelligent, full of wit and creativity, kind and generous and unafraid to speak his mind quite firmly, too. </p><p>While Freddie had formed such a quick, easy friendship with Roger, Brian was a different matter altogether. </p><p>More often than not, Freddie found himself second-guessing everything that came out of his mouth, when he was talking to Brian, anxious that he sounded plain, or foolish. Surely he was babbling way too much? Not making a lot of sense? It was only that Brian was a bit intimidating, that way. Freddie wanted to be friends with him, but felt like he'd have to earn it, somehow. Prove that he was deserving of Brian's attention. </p><p>"Well, if you say so," Freddie slowly turned back to his notebook, but suddenly couldn't seem to focus on the words in front of him anymore. "I might come back tomorrow night?" He ventured cautiously, after a moment. </p><p>Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Brian lift his head. "Yeah," he said, "yeah, that'd be great."</p><p>- - - </p><p>That'd be great. <i>That'd be great?</i></p><p>Brian was still mentally kicking himself when he was lying in bed in the dark, long after Freddie had left.</p><p>‘Yes, Freddie, please do come over anytime to use my desk while I sit on the bed pretending to read, <i>that’d be great</i>.’</p><p>What an idiotic thing to say.</p><p>He sighed, running a hand over his face. Unlike Freddie, concentration had eluded him all night, which was quite unusual for him. </p><p>It was just that Freddie couldn’t seem to sit still. And it wasn’t that it had annoyed Brian, although he almost wished that it had. Felt that it ought to have annoyed him. All those little tilts of the head, fingers twisting around a strand of hair, a graceful rotation of the wrist, a flick of the pencil and Freddie’s bottom lip, caught between his teeth. It was <i>distracting</i>, drawing his attention away from his textbook again and again.</p><p>And yet, he couldn’t help but look forward to tomorrow night.</p><p>- - - </p><p>That’d be great.</p><p>Freddie smiled to himself, walking down the street, the warm, golden evening sun warming his back. That was what Brian had said, last night, and it had lingered on his mind ever since, coming back to the fore again now as he was approaching his friend’s house. He’d said it as though Freddie had proposed a night of listening to some new records or going to see one of their favourite groups play in Soho - when he'd simply asked to share Brian's room for a while. Brian had said it as though- </p><p>Well, quite as though he enjoyed Freddie’s company, and until now, Freddie simply hadn’t been sure if that was truly the case.</p><p>He knew he was the third wheel. He wasn’t oblivious to the fact that he was just tagging along, so much of the time, inviting himself to Smile’s rehearsals and performances. Inserting himself into their group in the vain hope that maybe, just maybe, something could come of it eventually. That one day they’d look at him and realise that he could fit in, if only they’d give him a chance. </p><p>Freddie knew he overstepped the line sometimes, in his eagerness. And afterwards, he spent days agonising over things he’d said or done which may have been too forward, too obnoxious. The fear that they would all grow tired of him sooner or later always at the back of his mind. </p><p>His musings were put on hold when he arrived at the door. None of that, now. He had a dissertation to finish and all of two days to do it. That was the only thing he had any business worrying about. </p><p>“Hey, Freddie.” Brian’s smile turned into a concerned frown as he stepped aside, letting him into his flat. "Everything alright?"</p><p>"Yes, why?" Freddie gave him a flimsy smile, making an effort to brighten up his face.</p><p>His friend’s eyes followed him as he crossed the living room.</p><p>"I don't know, you just..."</p><p>"I'm <i>exhausted</i>," Freddie told him with a sigh and a flick of his wrist. "Are you telling me I look dreadful?"</p><p>"Well..." Brian gave him a crooked smile and Freddie laughed it off, running a self-conscious hand through his hair.</p><p>It was true, he’d slept very little all week. It was only the excessive amount of coffee he'd had today which was keeping him going at this point.</p><p>Speaking of which.</p><p>"I don't suppose you have some coffee, dear?" Freddie asked as they stepped through into Brian's room.</p><p>- - - </p><p>It was almost half past eleven at night. Hovering beside the desk uncertainly, Brian wondered what he should do. He’d gone to the kitchen to make some tea, only to return and discover that Freddie had nodded off, on top of his folded arms, at his desk. It really wasn't any wonder, he'd all but watched his eyelids droop for the last hour or so. </p><p>Lowering himself down onto the edge of his bed, Brian tilted his head to the side and looked at his friend closely. His full lips were parted, his teeth poking out just a little. His lashes quivered with the rapid movement of his eyes behind closed lids. God, he really was fast asleep, wasn't he. It felt wrong to wake him when he looked so exhausted. But Brian couldn’t just leave him like this, could he?</p><p>Very carefully, he reached out a hand and touched Freddie’s shoulder. Warm skin through cotton, rising and falling slightly with his slow breathing.</p><p>“Fred,” Brian whispered, giving his shoulder the tiniest shake.</p><p>Freddie didn’t stir. Chewing his lips, barely breathing so as not to disturb the sleeping young man - which was ridiculous, because wasn’t the idea to wake him up? - Brian leaned in a little closer still, fingers trailing along Freddie’s shoulder and up to the side of his face, where his hair had fanned out over his cheek.</p><p>“Freddie,” Brian repeated softly, brushing away a silky, dark lock. “Fred-”</p><p>His fingertips touched Freddie’s cheek and the raven-haired man startled awake with a gasp. Brian jerked his hand back as though he’d touched a hot plate.</p><p>“Sorry.”</p><p>Freddie lifted his head and narrowed a pair of sleep-drunk, glassy eyes at him. “What…” As clarity returned to his gaze, he sat up straight, looking around himself. “Oh no, I’m so sorry… I fell asleep. I’m sorry.”</p><p>“It’s fine,” Brian assured him. “You obviously need it, but I didn’t want to just-”</p><p>“Shit,” Freddie muttered, frowning helplessly at the papers in front of him, loose notes, his notebook and two books opened beside it, entire paragraphs crossed out messily and pages filled with writing up to the last bit of space, some of it vertical along the edges. “Shit,” he groaned and put his face in his hands, a note of genuine despair in his voice. “How am I ever going to finish this? Brian, I can’t finish this.” He made a broken sound of frustration, somewhere between a sob and a growl. </p><p>"You can." Moving on instinct, Brian’s hand found Freddie’s shoulder again, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Come off it, now, of course you can.”</p><p>“No, I can’t, I really can’t!"</p><p>"Don't be-" </p><p>"You don't understand! All of this, it’s-” Freddie slammed his hands down on the desk, pushing his notebook away from him. “It’s all <i>rubbish</i>! And I’m out of time-” He turned away, propelling himself up from the chair, and strode towards the other side of the room. “I’m sorry, I’m just- I’m sorry-” His voice shook, hands flitting about restlessly, as though looking for something to hold on to. He looked like he was desperately trying to keep his composure and failing. Brian had never seen him quite so worked up before, but immediately felt awful for him, because he understood it well. That dread of failure, the panic that arose when a deadline loomed over you and nothing you had done seemed like enough. </p><p>“Fred... Freddie, no.” Before he quite knew what he was doing, he was on his feet. “Hey…” Freddie glanced at him over his shoulder as he approached, not meeting his eyes. Brian lay a hand on his arm, gently urging him to turn around. When Freddie hesitantly faced him, he placed his other hand on his shoulder, lowering himself down a bit until they were eye to eye. Or they would have been, if Freddie hadn't been staring at the floor, his jaw set. “Hey, look at me. Look at me?”</p><p>Freddie shook his head stiffly and made a half-hearted attempt to pull away.</p><p>“Alright, okay-” Brian tightened his hold slightly. “Just listen then. You'll get it done, I'm sure you will. Just… take a deep breath, will you?”</p><p>This time Freddie did as he was told, although it was more of a huff. But before Brian could say anything else, he shook his head again and twisted out of Brian's grasp. </p><p>"I'll get out of your hair," he muttered, heading for the desk. "...overstayed my welcome."</p><p>"You don't… no, don't be silly, you haven't," Brian went to follow him and stopped, once again lost for what to do or say, looking on as Freddie started gathering up his papers in a hurry. The last thing he wanted was to see Freddie rush off like this. </p><p>"Thank you for your hospitality.” All his belongings thrown back into his bag, Freddie pushed past him and went to open the door. </p><p>"Don't mention it." Brian went after him and stood by just outside the door of his room while Freddie slipped his shoes on hurriedly. </p><p>"I'll see you," he uttered in a strained voice, his head bowed and eyes hidden behind his fringe.</p><p>“Yes, right. See you.” Was all Brian had time to say before the door fell shut. </p><p>- - - </p><p>Freddie made it exactly as far as halfway down the road to the next corner before he dropped down onto a wall with his head in his hands. The strap of his satchel bag slipped off his shoulder and into the crook of his arm while the bag landed on the damp ground with a dull thud. It must have rained while he had been at Brian's. He could feel the moisture seeping through the seat of his trousers, but couldn't bring himself to care. </p><p>He wasn't sure what was worse. The fact that, once again, just for a change, he was undoubtedly going to prove himself to be a complete failure. Or the sheer, stifling embarrassment that threatened to choke him up, given how he'd just acted. In front of Brian, no less. What Brian must think of him now. All but bursting into tears at his own incompetence. Only he'd not been able to help it, in that moment. The sheer horror at the prospect of failure had gripped him so thoroughly that he hadn't been able to hold it together. And that was the problem, wasn't it? He couldn't do it. Couldn't do anything right. Couldn't pull himself together, couldn't ever seem to do what was being asked of him, or do it right, do it <i>well</i>. Bawling about it like a child, that was all he was good at, in the end. <i>Pathetic.</i> </p><p>The street was quiet and empty, and he was so bloody tired. With a muffled sob, Freddie gave in to the tears, lacking the will and the energy to hold them back. He'd spent the last two weeks in what almost felt like a trance, single-mindedly focused on completing his degree, more so than he'd ever been. It didn't matter that graphic design wasn't his be-all and end-all, that it wasn't in actual fact even what he most longed to do, not even close. But failing to do well at this, at least this, the thing he had begged his parents to allow him to study in the first place, despite all their misgivings. The course he had pleaded and begged to be admitted to after he had got himself kicked off the fashion design course - he simply <i>couldn't</i> fail. But right now, it felt as if that was exactly the way he was going. And there was no way to save himself now. </p><p>Hunched over, sniffling and wiping his eyes in vain, Freddie startled when he became aware of the sound of footsteps approaching. The thought of a stranger walking by and stopping to ask him if he was alright made him feel sick with shame. </p><p>But it was so much worse than that, he realised when he glanced in the direction of the sound. </p><p>It was Brian. </p><p>Freddie turned his head the other way, fervently wishing all this were a bad dream, or to simply fade out of existence on the spot. God, this was so excruciatingly embarrassing. He swallowed tears and snot, quickly wiping his face on his sleeve before he turned back, praying that the light of the streetlamp was not enough to see by, to give away his undoubtedly blotchy face. </p><p>"Hey," said Brian, walking up to him. And even though Freddie was completely mortified to be caught like this, a small part of him was touched that Brian had been concerned enough to follow him. </p><p>"Hey," he croaked, staring at his friend's long legs because he couldn't quite bring himself to look up. Not when his eyes were still stubbornly moist, much as he was determined to stop crying. </p><p>"You forgot this." Brian held out Freddie's fountain pen. </p><p>"Oh." Freddie's heart sank, submerged in a sea of numb despondency. Of course. Brian hadn't been concerned for him at all. And now he felt utterly idiotic, having believed it, even for a moment. </p><p>"Thank you," he murmured quietly and reached up to take the pen, tucking it away in the front pocket of his bag. </p><p>"Are you alright?" </p><p>Freddie nodded - a blatant lie - and took a deep breath, trying to school his face into something <i>not</i> resembling utter misery so that he could say something along the lines of 'just very tired' and 'you know how it is', and finally be on his way. But before he could get to his feet, Brian sat down beside him instead. </p><p>"Don't give up now," he said, his voice low, and Freddie frowned, immediately incensed by that notion on some level. He wasn't <i>giving up</i>, he was just- just facing the reality that- "I know you can do it," Brian added, before Freddie could protest. "Do you know why?" </p><p>Freddie surreptitiously dabbed his eyes again, casting him a minute glance. Brian was doing him the kindness of not looking at him, instead gazing out at the houses across the street, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. </p><p>"Because," he said, raising his eyebrows a little, "you're very intelligent, for one. What? It's true," he added when Freddie scoffed. "And, I think, you hold yourself to a very high standard. Not everyone does that. Actually, you'll find a lot of people don't. What you expect from yourself is, and I'm willing to bet on this, probably far more than anyone else expects from you." </p><p>"I beg to differ." Freddie thought of his father, and all the expectations he had failed to meet, and continued to fail to meet. </p><p>Brian did look at him then, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Look at it this way. There are only two outcomes here. Either you finish, or you don't. You pass or you fail. But you won't know until that moment, will you? All you can do, right now, is keep going. You can't do more than that." </p><p>Strangely, this did introduce a little bit of clarity into the shambles that was Freddie's current state of mind. He nodded slowly. "I suppose."</p><p>"And you don't know how far you'll get, you don't know that yet." </p><p>"I… I know, I'm just," Freddie sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'm just so <i>tired</i>." </p><p>"Right." Brian lay a hand on his back, and Freddie fought the urge to lean into him, to just close his eyes and curl up against him, as ridiculous as it was. "Well, when I say keep going I actually mean, please, <i>please</i> get some sleep first."</p><p>Freddie chuckled weakly. "I can't sleep." </p><p>Exhausted as he was, he couldn't imagine not lying awake for another hour once he got home, replaying the worst case scenario in his mind over and over. Still, he felt a little calmer now. A little less as though he was just treading water, trying to keep himself from drowning in panic. </p><p>"Thank you, though." He met Brian's eyes at last, and felt his chest lighten, a warmth blooming there. Because Brian <i>was</i> genuinely concerned for him. He could see it in his eyes. And the way he was looking at Freddie, truly <i>looking</i>. It felt as if they really saw each other for the first time, in that moment, and neither of them wanted to look away.</p><p>It was starting to rain again, a light spray of drizzle. </p><p>"It's really late." Brian pulled his arm away, shivering a little as he stifled a yawn. "You could just… stay over, if you like?" </p><p>- - - </p><p>They stole the sofa cushions and spread a quilt and a blanket out on the floor beside the bed. Brian had offered to sleep on the floor, but Freddie wasn't having any of it.</p><p>Brian had had friends sleep over in his room before, on the odd occasion when a get together didn't wind down until late into the night and everyone was too drunk to make their way home. But there was a difference between a friend drunkenly passing out on his floor and this. Freddie, curled up on his side, one arm tucked underneath his head, gazing up at him. Brian lay at the very edge of his bed as they quietly talked about everything and nothing in particular. About the future, and college, and their fathers' expectations and music. </p><p>Always music. </p><p>Brian didn't remember falling asleep that night. All he remembered was Freddie's voice, following him into his dreams. </p><p>They both awoke to the sound of Brian's flatmate pottering around in the living room.</p><p>"Sleep alright?" Brian mumbled, rolling over to the side of his bed and peering down at his friend. </p><p>Lying on his back, Freddie yawned and stretched, then gave him a small smile. "Mmh, yes. What time is it?" </p><p>Brian peered at the alarm clock on his desk. "Uhh… twenty past eight."</p><p>"Ugh," Freddie sighed. </p><p>"What time do you have to go?" </p><p>"Around nine." </p><p>"You go shower first then." Brian rolled back onto his back. He didn't have to be anywhere until eleven this morning. </p><p>"Um." Freddie stifled another yawn. "Can I bother you for a towel?" </p><p>"Oh, right. Sorry." Climbing out of bed while Freddie sat up on the floor, Brian shuffled over to his wardrobe and located a clean towel. When he closed the wardrobe door, Freddie was standing up, wearing the t-shirt Brian had lent him last night and his underwear. Biting back a smile, because the shirt looked rather oversized on Freddie's small frame, Brian handed him the towel and made his way to the kitchen while Freddie went to shower.</p><p>He had just returned to his room and climbed up on the bed, sipping his tea, another steaming mug for Freddie left on the desk, when his friend returned. Brian glanced up and did a small double take almost without meaning to. Freddie closed the door behind himself, the towel wrapped around his hips and Brian's shirt in his hand. As he went to drape it over the back of the chair, Brian followed him with his eyes. Trying not to overtly stare at the thick cover of hair on his chest and the way it extended down across his stomach. It was a jarring sight, somehow. Brian couldn't say why but this manly mass of body hair was at odds with the Freddie he'd got to know. Another curious piece of the mosaic, as fascinating as the rest. </p><p>"Thank you, darling." </p><p>"No problem." He met Freddie's eyes and remembered the mug on the desk, indicating it with a nod. "Made you tea." </p><p>Freddie smiled brightly, fingers curling around the damp ends of his hair. "Oh Bri, you are a treasure." </p><p>Returning the smile, Brian lowered his eyes down to his own mug because, to his own surprise and consternation, he could feel himself blushing.</p><p>He didn't look up again until he was quite sure that Freddie was dressed. </p><p>- - - </p><p>To say that Freddie couldn't wait for the afternoon was an understatement. His determination had returned full-force and he couldn't wait to finish his dissertation and wrangle it into shape. It felt like he'd know exactly what to do, just as soon as he'd sit down at Brian's desk. Because-</p><p>Well, of course he was heading back to Brian's house. After all, if ever he had needed a sanctuary where he could concentrate in peace then it was today. And after all, Brian <i>had</i> offered. </p><p>The fact that going back to Brian's house felt right, more right somehow than returning to his own flatshare, and the fact that he caught himself grinning as he walked down the street, drawing odd looks from strangers, was something Freddie tried not to think about. </p><p>He was far too prone to this. Reading too much into friendship, oftentimes. Getting too attached to positive attention when it was given so freely. Those budding, warm feelings in his chest were best left alone, he knew, because they only lead to thoughts he shouldn't entertain. His friendship with Brian did not deserve to be tarnished like that. </p><p>Brian, who swung the door open wide, grinning right back at him. </p><p>"I have tea." He announced. "I have coffee." </p><p>"Very good," said Freddie. </p><p>"I even have biscuits, although they're not my mum's." Brian told him, holding up one finger. </p><p>"Marvellous." Freddie chuckled. </p><p>"You're getting this done today." Brian told him firmly, letting him into the flat. </p><p>"I'm getting this done today," Freddie echoed, and believed it, too. </p><p>"That's the spirit." Brian gave an approving nod and shut the door. </p><p>- - - </p><p>Brian couldn't remember when he had last been so nervous on someone else's behalf. He'd spent the whole afternoon and early evening tip-toeing around Freddie, brewing hot beverages and providing the occasional snack as well as moral support. </p><p>It was just gone ten o'clock when Freddie finished taping part of one page to another, carefully put it down and very suddenly and energetically punched the air with both fists. </p><p>"Yes! YES." </p><p>"Oh my God." Brian scrambled to sit up straight on the bed, dropping his book beside him. "Are you-" </p><p>"I am <i>done</i>," Freddie dropped his arms and threw his head back with an elated, nearly manic laugh. "Fuck me, <i>yes</i>, I'm fucking finished!" </p><p>"Are you really!" Brian scooted to the edge of his bed excitedly, a smile spreading across his face. "Bloody hell, well done!" </p><p>"I did it, oh my God…" Freddie was still chuckling and rubbed both hands over his face. "Oh my God…" he groaned. "I'll have to write it all out neatly tomorrow, of course-" </p><p>"Well, nevermind about that now!" Brian bounced on the edge of his bed, so excited for his friend he wanted to all but jump up and down. "You did it, Freddie, you did it! I knew you would." </p><p>Lowering his hands, Freddie turned to him, a toothy smile on his face, and when Brian opened his arms wide he fell into them. The hug was so enthusiastic Freddie almost toppled off the chair and into Brian's lap, and they both separated amidst laughter just before that could happen. Brian reached out, placing a hand on Freddie's forearm and giving it a firm squeeze, still caught up in the urge to express just how delighted he was for him. </p><p>"Thank you." Still smiling brightly, Freddie moved his arm back and grasped Brian's hand, squeezing back. "I really, I don't know how to thank you." </p><p>"Nonsense." Brian shook his head with a laugh, their joint hands resting against his knee. "All I did was make tea." </p><p>Freddie's smile faded into something softer, something quieter although no less excited, and he blinked a few times, studying Brian's face. "You did more than that," he said quietly. </p><p>They seemed to become aware that they still hadn't let go of each other's hands as one. Freddie pulled back, and so did Brian, rubbing his palm over his jeans instead. </p><p>"Right, this calls for a celebration," he decided, and went to find the half-full bottle of whiskey which he hoped was still residing in the kitchen cupboard. </p><p>There was indeed whiskey, but nothing to mix it with. They sipped it valiantly, a little at a time, and eventually decided to spike their tea with it instead. It went down much better that way and seemed to loosen their tongues, for they lost themselves in conversation as they had the night before. </p><p>"Oh my goodness, look at the time." Freddie tutted, setting down his empty mug and tiredly blinking at the clock on the table. It was nearing midnight. "I should get going." </p><p>"Don't be silly." Brian waved a hand. "You might as well stay."</p><p>Freddie raised his eyebrows. "I don't… I don't want to be a nuisance. Are you sure?"</p><p>Perhaps it was the whiskey, or simply the very pleasant company of a relieved, happy Freddie - perhaps a mix of the two. Either way, Brian wanted more of it. "You're staying," he declared, pointing a finger at his friend, and went to steal more whiskey from the cupboard. </p><p>Later, much later - weeks, months, <i>years</i> - Brian wouldn't be able to recall just how it had all come about, that night.</p><p>How they had both ended up on the bed, Freddie on his back, arms crossed behind his head, and he on his side, head propped up on his hand. Why and when it was exactly that the crinkles and folds of his shirt, on Freddie, had drawn his eye and how long he had been looking at it. The part where the material was covering Freddie's stomach, rising and falling with Freddie's breathing. He'd never truly recall what it was that had compelled him to reach out, so casually, and straighten out the folds there. Perhaps it was because the shirt was his, perhaps he simply hadn't thought at all, in that moment. What he would recall, later, was the sound of Freddie's voice, fading, as he fell silent. </p><p>Because Brian's hand lingered there, fingertips lightly stroking over the worn cotton, and he did not dare to look up. </p><p>- - - </p><p>Freddie's heart was beating in his throat, his eyes following the small movement of Brian's long, slender fingers trailing across his stomach. The touch was as innocent as it was anything but, surely not, he thought, surely not something that ought to be happening. Between friends. No, not a touch. </p><p>A caress. </p><p>Slowly, as though afraid to move and shatter the moment, he pulled a hand out from underneath his head. And slid it down, down to meet Brian's, fingers trembling. </p><p>Brian's hand stilled, but did not move away as Freddie edged closer. 

How simple it was. Uncomplicated and inevitable, somehow, that their fingers would find each other. Gingerly touching, brushing against each other, before they intertwined. Freddie swallowed and wet his lips, which suddenly felt very dry. He was so keenly aware of the other man beside him, the warmth coming off of him, the rhythm of his breath and his scent. Was it that which was making him dizzy, or was it the whiskey? </p><p>Impossibly long moments passed and still they lay like this, gazing at their hands. Caressing each other. A thumb sliding over the back of a hand, another drawing circles on the inside of a wrist. Was this really happening? Or had he gone to sleep and fallen into an impossibly sweet dream? </p><p>Out of the corner of his eye, he detected the movement of Brian's head and looked up before he could think twice. Their eyes met, dark in the dim light. Brian looked… thoughtful. As though he wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words. </p><p>Freddie understood. There was nothing he could think to say either, even while his head spun with a dozen questions. However, all of them slowly faded into the background when Brian tilted his head, leaning a little closer, his gaze searching Freddie's face. His eyes, his brow, his lips. It felt like slow-motion, and that was just as well, because Freddie didn't know how else he could have coped with it all. His heart, which was threatening to jump out of his chest. The way Brian's hand tightened around his, just before he leant down and closed the remaining distance between them. The feeling of his warm lips pressed against his own, which raised goosebumps all over his body. </p><p>Freddie's eyes fell shut, plunging him into a place where nothing existed in the darkness but the two of them, moving ever closer. Arms wrapping around each other, legs sliding between each other. The weight of Brian's body, pinning him to the mattress. Soft kisses, all lips at first, all shuddering breath and uncertainty. Urgent and hesitant at once, until Freddie could no longer take it and tilted his head, tracing Brian's lower lip with his tongue. The faint, throaty noise that answered his boldness coaxed a moan from him in return, muffled against Brian's mouth when he deepened the kiss.</p><p>It was impossible to say how much time passed. Freddie never wanted to stop, never wanted to stop running his hands through Brian's curls, never wanted to go without the warmth of his body again, the feeling of his fingertips on his cheek, his jaw, the nape of his neck. </p><p>When they finally separated it was for sheer lack of breath, foreheads resting against each other and noses brushing.</p><p>Freddie blinked his eyes open, just slightly, but it was enough to send the reality of what had just happened rushing over him like a tidal wave, bringing with it the murky waters of fear and doubt. </p><p>"I'm sorry," he breathed, because it was the only thing he could think to say. It didn't seem possible somehow that this wasn't a terrible mistake which Brian was going to regret very shortly, that it wasn't his fault, that it wasn't-</p><p>"For what?" Brian huffed out a soundless laugh, pulling back enough to look him in the eye while still holding him close. There was a bemused, wondrous expression on his face. "I kissed <i>you</i>." </p><p>Freddie raised his eyebrows helplessly and pulled his lips over his teeth, lost for what to say. A hint of concern flitted across Brian's face.</p><p>"Please don't be sorry," he whispered. Freddie wasn't sure if it was reassurance or a plea. </p><p>"I'm not," he uttered, fingers drawing minute circles on Brian's back. "I'm not… if you're not?" </p><p>"'Course not." Brian shook his head, not a hint of doubt in his voice, and Freddie felt such a surge of relief that it all but brought tears to his eyes. The look on his face must have given him away, because Brian leaned down, pressing another gentle kiss to his lips. When they pulled apart he drew a deep breath and lowered his head onto Freddie's shoulder, shifting a little until he was lying beside him. Freddie put his arm around him, their legs entangled and their hands, once again, clasped together.</p><p>"I…" Brian started and broke off, tugging Freddie's hand closer, close to his chest. "I don't…" He tried once more, and stopped again. "We'll figure it out," he finally said. "Won't we?" </p><p>A part of Freddie was scared. Truly, deeply terrified of what this meant, of what would happen now, the things that <i>could</i> happen. But he realised that now it was his turn to reassure. </p><p>"Yes," he whispered hoarsely. </p><p>"Yes," Brian agreed, "together." He relaxed against Freddie's side and the smile in his voice, in turn, eased some of that anxiety.</p><p>Instead of a reply, Freddie hugged him tighter, pressing a kiss to Brian's forehead.</p><p>"...After you hand in that bloody dissertation of yours," Brian added with a quiet grumble. </p><p>"Yes," Freddie laughed, and the other man lifted his head to look at him. They smiled at each other for a long moment, amusement transforming into something more mischievous, more sensual. </p><p>"Do you say yes to everything?" Brian teased. </p><p>Freddie smirked. "You'll find out, I suppose." </p><p>Brian's grin widened, eyes twinkling with delight and curiosity. </p><p>"I suppose I will," he murmured with a waggle of his eyebrows, before he leaned in and kissed Freddie again. </p><p>- - -</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope you liked it! Let me know! 🙌🏻</p></blockquote></div></div>
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